


Compliance

by anemptymargin



Category: A-Team (2010)
Genre: Kink Meme, M/M, Medication, Mental Health Issues, Mildly Dubious Consent, implied past Face/Hannibal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2013-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-29 20:15:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/690997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anemptymargin/pseuds/anemptymargin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“It’s like the white rabbit, you know? One pill makes you larger… one makes you small.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Compliance

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a kink meme fill… and sort of exploded. This does deal extensively with Murdock’s mental health issues, medication, and opinions that may not be your own. If you have issues with this, you might want to skip it. 
> 
> Prompt: Murdock is pretty stable on his meds, with one problem: he's 98% impotent. Decreasing or going off meds means his body gets back to normal, but that also equals a recurrance of mental issues that are hard to deal with or even downright dangerous. How do he and his lover deal with this?

It’s impossible to hide things in the back of a van or a single hotel room or a tent – not that Murdock ever tried to hide what he was doing anyway. Of course, he was only they catalyst in what Hannibal considered the inevitable – they were a team, four men functioning as a single unit against anything that stood in their way. Soon enough that extended beyond friendship, beyond brotherhood to encapsulate all things they were to each other. It was easy to blame Murdock, he was impulsive and couldn’t care less if his advances and attempts at impropriety were rebuffed – which they frequently were by all but one of them.

Face never said ‘no’, though. From the outside one might guess it was a case of his narcissism being stroked by the knowledge that he was wanted even by men, or perhaps even that it was just easy sex. The truth was that Murdock saw him in a way nobody else did – not even the rest of the team. He knew the con-man well before it became intimate, watching him even through their first mission together with those same understanding eyes. Crazy eyes. Eyes that knew things they shouldn’t know.

“You’re lonely,” Murdock had said one of the first times they were alone together and camping under the stars in New Mexico. It was one of his strange moments of absolute clarity where everything he said sounded a little less like something a crazy man would say, so Face perked up to listen. “You think nobody will ever really love you.” He had offered a dim half-smile as he looked from the cinders he was stirring to where Face sat quietly on a blanket.

“Nobody asked you anything.” Face replied, relaxing back on his hands.

“They never do.” He hummed back, a slow few notes slipping into the upbeat Mickey Mouse Club theme song.

That night, when Murdock climbed into his sleeping bag he hadn’t refused – and when he was howling and laughing afterward it was only BA’s stern growl across the campsite that stopped him from joining in with amusing celebration.

It worked, for all of them.

***

“Wake up…” Murdock hissed, climbing on top of him and attacking the buttons on Face’s shirt as he slept on the hotel room’s single bed. “No time for snoozing, Sleeping Beauty.”

Face groaned, eyes only half open when fingers raked down his chest and yanked at the button of his khakis. “Hmmm? Murdock… it’s the middle of the night…”

“Two o’clock and all’s well!” He squalled; yanking open his partner’s fly with a grunt of effort.

“Bastard…” Face muttered under his breath, letting his eyes close again. There was little deterring Murdock once he got an idea in his head – and even if he could, he didn’t particularly see any reason to. There were worse ways to wake up at an ungodly hour. He had more words, but they were stifled behind Murdock’s lips kissing him hard.

They were alone this time, at least – a small miracle after being pushed up against a glass bathroom wall in their hotel room in Vegas only to open his eyes face to face with BA’s scowl – and would be for a few more hours until Hannibal came to rouse them to get on the road again. Without warning, Murdock pulled away, yanking off his trousers and tossing them on the floor. When Face opened his eyes again, the other man was already mostly out of his torn jeans and pulling off his t-shirt before he climbed back onto the bed.

“Eager?” Face smirked, a laugh catching in his throat when Murdock swept his hands above his head, holding them against the pillows as he kissed him again – nipping at his lips with an unexpectedly casual buck of his hips driving them closer together. A wave of pleasure was hard to ignore, but something deeper told him this turn couldn’t mean anything good. He’d gotten used to a lot of things in bed; depending on his state of mind Murdock could be a suave Casanova or a blushing virgin – sometimes he’d come seeking closeness where cuddling would slowly become making love, and sometimes he dropped to his knees and lowered Face’s zipper with his teeth to get at him. And the giggling, God the giggling had been hard to get used to but after a few months he found himself joining right in with the revelry – celebrating the simple things with a smile and maybe a bit of laughter himself.

But this… this was a new facet. Murdock growled against his mouth, biting hard enough to draw blood on his lower lip as his hand found Face’s cock and stroked hard and fast. His body betrayed him, and even the crazed look in Murdock’s eyes when he brought himself to look couldn’t stop a low moan in a moment of tired arousal.

“Murdock…” he panted, swallowing the tang of his own blood to hold back a moan when the other man’s fingers tightened around the base of his cock – squeezing with each stroke. “What…”

Murdock stopped his hard strokes and squeezed the wrists in his hand hard. Covering Face’s mouth he whispered; “Shh …” There was no danger, Face knew he could get away from him with hardly more than a strong push, but something in Murdock’s eyes worried him and he did as he was told – remaining silent when the hand covering his lips was tentatively pulled away and reached toward the shaving kit on the nightstand.

Things always had a certain rhythm between them, and the snap of the lid on the flip-top bottle of lube was always Murdock’s signal to snicker and ask who was playing catcher this game and sometimes volunteer if he was feeling limber – this time there wasn’t even a hint of amusement as he sat up on his knees and glared down at his lover; “Don’t move, dah-ling – I’ve got a plan!” He murmured in a horrible facsimile of an English accent as he liberally poured the thin gel into his palm.

For a moment, Face considered asking him to stop – the pit of his stomach falling out when Murdock’s slick fingers trailed over the inside of his thigh. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, he actually rather enjoyed being in that position and watching the pleasure on Murdock’s face as he slowly penetrated him – always gentle and enjoyable, it was the thought that what they were doing might well be something they could both regret once whatever was seizing his partner’s mind had passed that bit at him. And then the warm hand was around him once more – stroking his hardness from base to tip with a grip that made him want to melt into the mattress.

Murdock lowered his head and pushed forward, bracing one warm hand against Face’s shoulder as he guided the slick tip against his opening. He didn’t say a word; the only sound as he lowered himself quickly onto his lover’s cock was Murdock’s shuddering groan. Caught up in the sensation, Face lifted his hips to meet each eager buck that drove him down into the cheap hotel bed with increasingly exasperated squeals from the box spring.

When Murdock’s fingers raked through his hair, gripping hard at the back of his head as he let out another guttural moan, Face fought back the instinct to simply go along with it and ride out the rough slap of skin against skin as he managed to push it even faster. “God… Murdock…” he groaned, both hands gripping tight at the other man’s hips; “St… slow down… you’re…”

Once more, a wide palm covered his mouth, fingertips digging into his cheek as Murdock leaned fully forward –rocking against him as he slid his cock along Face’s exposed abs. Still, he said nothing – not a joke or even a giggle in the heat of their increasingly frenzied coupling. And then as soon as it had begun, it seemed to be nearly over.

Face bit back against the palm as he came, angry at himself for giving in to wave after wave of pleasure telling his body everything was just fine and wonderful. A moan closed his throat, and then slowly Murdock’s hand relaxed. His frantic pace slowed until he disengaged himself, still visibly aroused but no longer interested in what he’d woken Face up for.

Murdock nodded once, a little unsteady on his bare feet as he stood up and turned a full circle that might have been giddy were it not for the slack look on his face.

Confused, still coming down, Face shook his head and asked; “Come back to bed?” But there was no reply, Murdock paced across the small room – waving his hands like a mockery of a symphony conductor queuing up his orchestra as he went. “Please?” Face added, the worry allowed to creep into his voice.

***

When Hannibal and BA arrived, he was still pacing but had also taken to humming along with the music in his head; gesticulating wildly to everything from snatches of 80s pop to Bach as he made a continuous circuit between the door and the window. Face had managed to take a shower and make himself look presentable, and was sitting close by in the room’s only chair when Hannibal opened the door.

“Put some pants on, man!” BA groaned, turning his head as the door’s lock engaged behind them.

“He can’t hear you.” Face sighed, watching him ramp up even faster – shortening his circle to encompass only the distance between the window and the table sandwiched between the bed and the wall. “I’ve been trying for three hours – he just hums louder.”

As if on cue, Murdock sucked in a deep breath and started in on a lively rendition of ‘Flight of the Bumblebee’ and added an unstable turn to his routine.

Hannibal’s lips creased and he didn’t have to ask for Face’s audience outside the door; “Keep an eye on him,” he raised an eyebrow at BA, “don’t let him do anything crazy.”

“Too late for that.” He growled in response.

The hall was blessedly quiet at the early hour, and Face was glad to be rid of the humming drone for a moment – even if his mind was still with what had happened earlier that morning.

“When did it start?” Hannibal asked, his voice the same steady calmness it always had been.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “He was watching Animal Planet when I went to bed. I… I thought he was fine.”

Hannibal nodded, withdrawing a cigar from his shirt pocket and leaving it cocked in the corner of his mouth. “Tell me what happened.”

There was a fine line between too much and not enough, and even though his best efforts at discretion had led to nothing more than keeping the peace about the elephant in the room, Face still tried to keep the gory details in as close confidence as he could. Looking down at his hands, he replied; “He woke me up at about two.” He curled his fingers, checking his nails for imperfections he knew weren’t there; “Frantic, pawing at me and we… uh…”

“You made love?”

“No. We… we had sex.” Face shook his head, managing to look up at his friend. There was history there too, enough to be sure that they both knew what he meant well enough without saying it outright.

He nodded again and withdrew the cigar, cutting the tip with his thumbnail. “Has he said anything?”

Face swallowed the lump rising in his throat, a little more confident when he answered; “He told me to be quiet.” He closed his hand to a fist, edging on that anger he’d directed at himself before – he should have seen it coming, he should have overpowered him and made him stop. Clearly, Murdock hadn’t been in his right mind when he climbed into bed. “There’s something else,” he glanced at the door, hearing the humming grow loud enough to almost make out his song under BA’s voice growling something at him. “He didn’t laugh…”

“That’s not good.” Hannibal absently slid the cigar back into his pocket, lifting his gaze to the door to address the situation inside. “We need to do something.”

He laughed, but there was no real humor in it; “I told BA he wouldn’t put his pants on.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“I know.” Face sighed, “I know.”

“I can sedate him…”

“Boss…”

Hannibal put up a hand, stopping the protest with a gentle pat on Face’s shoulder. “We’ll drop him in Arizona, there’s a base in Phoenix with a good VA facility…”

“No… no… I can’t do that to him!” Face protested weakly, knowing full and well it would be the best thing for him – to go back on the meds, to have full time observation. He’d go straight to the psych ward – no MPs, and only the briefest blip on Lynch’s radar.

His jaw set firm, Hannibal remained calm when he said; “We can. This isn’t about you.”

“He wouldn’t want to go there!”

Hannibal’s hand pushed harder against his shoulder, guiding him against the door as he reached for the doorknob. “It’s time; we all knew it would happen…” He didn’t bother finishing the thought as he opened to door, a loud scream from Murdock punctuating the awkwardness of BA on top of him, bent over the bed as he forced a pair of jogging shorts up his thin legs.

“It aint what it looks like,” BA cried, putting his weight across Murdock’s shoulders as he fought back against the shorts.

“Looks like you’re dressing him.” Face raised an eyebrow, certain he wasn’t actually being hurt… despite another loud scream.

“Alright, it is what it looks like then.”

“Hold him a minute longer,” Hannibal retrieved his overnight bag from under the table; “we’re gonna take care of this, Murdock… don’t worry.”

***

It wasn’t right, and Face fought every mile to find a way around it, but in the end he sat in the van with BA while Hannibal walked him into the clinic – Murdock raving and flailing violently.

That night they rented a room about sixty miles southwest of the base, come morning they’d roll for California where a job was probably already waiting for them. Face couldn’t sleep though; his mind was too busy buzzing over where things had possibly gone wrong.

Sure, Murdock was off the drugs – he’d never gone back on them after the escape. But he was lucid, a bit nuts but more or less under control. Of course, Face had never actually seen him medicated.

“You’re thinking about him.” Hannibal said softly, curling up behind him on one small bed as BA snored from the other.

Face shook his head, and then relented; “He belongs with the team.”

“He belongs where he’s safe.” Hannibal reached over him and dropped a thick folder next to his head before letting his arm drape over Face’s waist. “They’ll take care of him there.”

“We could have done something.” Face pushed up on his elbow, squinting at the smudged type in the moonlight as he began to look over the pages. It was Murdock’s medical record, and he didn’t dare ask how the boss had gotten ahold of it. Schizoaffective, mixed-type… it meant nothing to him. “What if he went back on his medication?” He tapped his fingers against the page of chicken scratch that looked like a list of medications with various dosages.

Hannibal pulled him closer and rested his chin on his shoulder. “It’s like giving someone having a heart attack blood pressure pills.”

There was nothing to say, it was done and whether he cared to admit it or not Hannibal was right. He always was. A quiet lull fell between them and slowly, Face let himself relax under the gentle warmth of Hannibal behind him and his breath tickling his ear.

“It’ll be all right,” Hannibal whispered, “we’ll come back in a few weeks and see.”

***

They didn’t talk about it again, but all three of them knew it wasn’t the same. There was nobody to grouse at, nobody making inappropriate comments and livening things up with renditions of show tunes as done by various cartoon characters in between near death experiences.

And try as they might, nobody made gunpowder steak quite as palatable as he could.

Jobs kept them busy enough, but there were still nights Face couldn’t sleep right and couldn’t take his mind off what their missing piece must be going through. He’d heard enough stories to get a pretty clear picture of even the things Murdock wasn’t telling them – it may have had its fun times but it wasn’t freedom and it wasn’t flight. He didn’t ask when they were going back, if Hannibal had a plan it would happen when it was time.

As it turned out, six and a half weeks was time. He didn’t bother telling them, only took the wheel and floored it down I-10 toward Phoenix.

“We goin’ back to Arizona?” BA asked as they neared the state line.

“Elk season. Good hunting up in the mountains.” Hannibal replied, eyes set on the road ahead as they were waved through the checkpoint without stopping.

Face raised an eyebrow; “Thinking about settling in for a bit?”

He shrugged; “We’re gonna have to lay low for a little while… three weeks or so should get the heat off.”

That would mean the heat was on again, and Face’s pulse rose with the implication. “We’re getting him back?”

Hannibal looked to where Face sat rapt in the front passenger seat, offering a half-smile before turning back to the highway unfolding ahead of them. “Gonna need a pilot soon.”

“No way,” BA shook his head from the back; “I don’t fly with that fool!”

“He’ll be different,” Face shot back; “when he’s on the medication he’s almost normal.”

“He aint never been, how’d you know.”

“I know.” Hannibal cut in, silencing them both. “We’ll discuss this later.”

BA grumbled, but nothing else was said for hours. Not two miles away, they hit a drive-thru and when Hannibal ordered for four it finally sank in.

They were getting him back.

“Boss, I… uh… I don’t mean to be a pain, but maybe you could let us in on your plan?”

Hannibal raised an eyebrow, clenching the half-burned cigar between his teeth a long moment as they sat parked less than a mile from the hospital. Then, blowing out a soft puff of smoke he answered; “What time is it?”

Face checked his watch; “Four thirty-six.”

“You’ll find out in seven minutes.”

“Seven?”

“Yeah.”

BA leaned forward and nodded, taking a large bite out of an equally large burger as he made eye contact with Face – neither shocked when Hannibal returned to staring out the window. So, Face waited, trying not to be tense as he picked at his chicken strips and tried to figure out just what Hannibal was watching for.

At four forty-two, he started the van and pulled out into the increasingly busy mid-day traffic. “You sure you don’t want to let us in on it?” Face asked nervously as they turned into the hospital parking lot.

“Oh, I’m sure…” he replied calmly, stubbing out his cigar before pulling up to a side door marked ‘Authorized Personnel Only’ in faded red letters.

“Think it’s gonna work?” BA asked, wiping a mustard splotched napkin across his mouth.

“It has to.” Face sighed, watching his watch tick over… exactly seven minutes. Then the door flew open and a large woman with frizzy brown hair and green scrubs backed out with a figure covered up by a green blanket in a wheelchair. “Is that…”

“BA, get the cargo doors.” Hannibal cut him off, and without question BA jumped into the back and threw open the doors.

Face was halfway out of his seat when Hannibal’s hand caught his shoulder and pushed him back down; “Thank you, Miss Williams,” he called back to the woman helping load Murdock into the back of the van; “I’ll be sure to tell your son how much you’ve helped us.”

The woman nodded; “You just get him out of there, Mister Smith – and get Mister Murdock out of here fast, his nurse’ll be showing up to get him in three minutes.” Hannibal didn’t waste any more time, as soon as the cargo doors slammed shut he stomped on the gas and shot back out into traffic.

For a second, he couldn’t breathe let alone talk but when it passed Face asked; “What was that about?”

“We’re trading one soldier for another.” Hannibal replied calmly, headed toward I-17. “In three weeks we’re flying to Afghanistan to get her son out of a POW camp the government says doesn’t exist.”

A silence passed between them and then Face looked back to the cargo space – seeing Murdock’s cap peeking out from under the military issue blanket at one end and battered sneakers at the other. “How is he?”

BA shook his head, drawing back the blanket. He was out cold, his eyelids dark and heavy. “He’s breathing.” He took Murdock’s wrist in one hand, propping elbow as he took a pulse; “Heart rate’s all over the place.”

“He just got out of ECT.” Hannibal replied, already hearing the whine of sirens well behind them. “Give him a few minutes.”

“Electroshock?” Face sighed, frowning deeply; “I didn’t think they even did that anymore.”

“He’s fine,” Hannibal replied; “just focus on watching our tail, will you?”

Moments later, a low groan came from the back and BA said; “Hey… Murdock? You with us, man?”

“Auntie Em?” He sighed, eyelids slowly fluttering open. “Auntie Em… I had the most horrible dream…”

“We got you, Murdock…” Face called back, his frown stretching back up to a relieved smile; “You’re not in the hospital anymore.”

“Beauty?” He grinned wide; “I can hear you, but I can’t see you jus’ yet… buzzer makes my eyes a lil’ funny…” He sniffed, and then moaned; “Oh man… I smell food, Bosco… real food…”

“Double cheeseburger, extra sauce.” BA chuckled, as close as he’d ever come to happy to see the pilot.

“Curly fries?” Murdock asked with a sleepy sigh; “Please tell me you got the curly fries…”

Face grinned even wider, pushing back the lump in his throat. “I’ve got them,” he answered; “you can have mine too.”

It was almost nine when they pulled into the garage attached to a small cabin in the middle of nowhere just northeast of Kingman. At some point along the way, BA had reclaimed the wheel with Hannibal in the copilot’s seat while Face and Murdock occupied the back two. It was mostly silent going; Hannibal glancing occasionally at the map and giving directions while Face watched Murdock watching the dark window.

He knew he wasn’t supposed to worry, that all along that was part of his problem – worrying where he shouldn’t. They were a team, but sometimes it was even more than that. And before they had to turn him over to the hospital ‘sometimes’ was becoming closer to ‘always’ whether he wanted to admit to it or not. Of course, with Murdock there was no telling where he stood or even what he was thinking. If he was thinking anything at all.

That night, he let Murdock sleep by himself in the king sized bed while Hannibal and BA took the smaller two rooms. Despite the lumpy sofa, Face slept deeply for the first time in six weeks.

***

“No time for snoozing, Sleeping Beauty…” Murdock’s voice roused him enough to feel the warm stroke of a sunbeam across his face replaced with familiar lips against his, opening his mouth and tasting his sleep-sticky tongue.

For a moment, it was exactly what he wanted, what he’d been missing, and then his brain balked at the realization. Was it happening again? “Mmm… mmm…” he groaned against Murdock’s persistent lips, finally managing to break away; “Murdock?”

“Aye, ‘tis me…” he replied in a deep timbre before sliding back to his natural tone; “it’s almost ten, thought I should wake you up before too late.”

“Ten?” He furrowed his brow, confused and a little groggy. “How’d I sleep ‘till ten?”

“I told BA to let you sleep,” he brushed another kiss against Face’s lips, “and that you needed to stay here and drive me to the store for food.”

Face smiled against the small kisses, hesitating before stroking his fingers over the back of Murdock’s t-shirt and pulling him down onto of him. “Sure,” he replied to the unasked question, he’d drive him just about anywhere; “how you feeling?”

To softness wasn’t lost on him and Murdock continued the gentle barrage of kisses across his partner’s lips to his nose and cheeks, fitting himself down against him in a way he’d sorely missed every day he was away. “Lucid,” he replied quickly, “organized, calm… little bit sleepy but it’ll pass.”

“You sound…” he didn’t know how to say it politely, so he let himself finish with the natural thought; “less crazy.”

“Brain’s all straightened up,” he replied with another smooch; “they scramble it with the ‘lectrodes and then make it all right with the shot.”

Face nodded, tilting up to catch his lips for a kiss to distract himself from thinking about what he was saying. Giving in, he sighed; “No more electrodes. I won’t let them do that to you again.”

“It’s not so bad…” Murdock grinned, “barely feel it till the end. Like a challenge to see how much juice they can crank it up to before I crack or they gotta stop.”

“I’m gonna take care of you,” Face insisted, not even sure why it was so important to him to say it. “It was my fault you had to go there…”

Murdock stopped him with another kiss, and then broke it with a laugh. “You didn’t make me crazy, Beaut… you make me want to be sane.”

That name, he hated that name… but he loved the way Murdock’s laugh put him at ease. “I was scared,” he replied, finding Murdock’s right hand with his left and lacing their fingers together; “I’m not gonna be scared anymore.”

A quiet darkness came over Murdock’s eyes and his lips pursed together, puzzled for a moment before he said; “Sometimes you should be. I ain’t mad for what you did, man. You did good.”

Something had passed; the soft romance of being tangled together had been replaced with the easy truth of day to day life. Reluctant again, Face gave his hand a tight squeeze. “Yeah, well…” he sighed, not wanting to fight about it despite his obvious disagreement. “Where’s everybody off to?”

Murdock squeezed back, but made no attempt to get the moment back. “They took off hours ago with the van to scout the airfield.”

Face nodded easily enough; “Leaving us all to ourselves?”

“You, me, the keys to a ’93 Grand Cherokee…” Murdock chuckled, kissing him again before pushing up onto his feet and breaking away. “And a shopping list.”

***

A couple hundred bucks, several full bags and a stop by the butcher shop later, they were back at the house only long enough to put together some lunch before the van rumbled up the drive. The rest of the afternoon and part of the evening was spent first going over pictures of the aircraft in the repair yard until Murdock picked out an older MD-500 that had taken some damage and sat for at least a couple years, and then going through everything that would probably have to be fixed and the parts that they’d need.

The plan was simple enough, posing as the wealthy owner of the craft and his mechanic finally coming back to get it airworthy to start up a small charter firm. Hannibal and Murdock had their roles, spending however long it took to get her running; Face was responsible for obtaining the documentation for the chopper and fake company, while BA was in charge of procuring parts. Together, they were a well-oiled machine and three weeks left them a more than generous window to work in and still have time to spare before their flight. And it always felt good to have a plan come together – especially one that they were all party to this time.

It felt even better to crawl into bed together at the end of the night with only the faintest glint of warning in Hannibal’s eyes as he watched them enter the bedroom together – he knew his boys and the trouble they got up to.

“Sure you’re all right with this?” Face asked, watching with a mixture of desire and adoration as Murdock stripped off his shirt, pretending to struggle with it because he knew Face watching.

Murdock finally tugged the collar to his forehead, letting the remainder of the shirt hang off his head as he shrugged and kicked off his shoes. “It’s a good plan; it’ll be nice to fly again.”

Face neatly folded his trousers, hanging them before he clarified; “No, not that… I mean this. You know, me and you.”

“Oh.” The word hung in the room for a long moment as Murdock shucked off his jeans, leaving his clothes in a puddle of dirty fabric on the floor. When Face turned back to him, still plucking little plastic buttons, he said; “Aren’t you?”

“Honestly? If you’d had me committed I probably wouldn’t be.”

Murdock smiled, finally tugging the shirt off the back of his head before hopping in bed in his shorts. “Come on, ya act like you’re the first man to put me in. Aint no big thing… just a few weeks! I can do six weeks without even blinking.”

Face frowned, hanging his shirt before following him into bed. “I wish I knew what happened to set you off, though… it’s not fair to make you change.”

He sighed, uncharacteristically stoic as he replied; “Don’t take nothin’ to set me off, you know that. It’s safer this way.”

Safe. Like anything they ever did was safe, his life had been a string of near death experiences since he first joined up with the Rangers what seems like a lifetime ago – and when Murdock casually handed him a syringe with seven cc’s measured out it felt like he’d been hit with a brick. “Murdock…”

“Will you do the honors?” He turned toward him and flashed a soft, sweet smile – just the kind they both know Face couldn’t refuse. He slipped off his boxers and then dragged his fingers over the thickest spot right above his left buttock; “Right here, nice and quick.”

He could protest, but he knew it wouldn’t do him much good. One way or another, he’d still end up doing it. With a low sigh, he crawled between his lover’s thighs and bent in close to press a soft kiss to his fingertips and then the flesh beneath. They’d never been into gentle romance, kissing and caresses under the faded light of a 30 watt bulb, but it felt right when Murdock giggled and squirmed under his lips and tongue.

Composing himself, Murdock said; “I thought about you, you know? While I was there.”

Face’s kisses didn’t stop, he traced a warm line across his lover’s skin – telling himself he wasn’t about to do what he was about to do. “Really?”

“Every day.” He giggled again, this time pushing back against the tickling kiss. “There was this one nurse, Laticia… cute little Spanish girl…”

“Mmmhmm?” Face found a slightly hard spot – somewhere he’d been injected before – and gently raked his teeth over the raised skin.

Murdock groaned, his toes curling against the blanket as he managed to reply; “Mmmhmm… real cute, I think she liked me too – called me a sick bastard like she really cared.”

He couldn’t help but laugh, that was the Murdock he knew and loved – the one that seemed so foreign when he didn’t have his edge. “I can imagine.”

“She caught me once, with that picture of us right before we went out to Benning.”

Face remembered the picture well; a private with an old Polaroid had caught them having a rare moment of time alone in the back of a covered personnel carrier; Murdock’s mouth mapping the contours of his neck. He’d pulled a pretty big favor to get it back and never really believed Murdock had shredded it, but at least some of the girls he was running around with at the time had never seen it. “It’s just a picture…” he flushed warm, pressing another kiss against the skin before sitting back up on his heels and preparing the needle.

Murdock chuckled again, turning just enough to see Face’s soft hair out of the corner of his eye. “I was indecent at the time.”

“Indecent?” Face asked, hesitating even longer. “How, uh… indecent are we talking about?”

He moaned again, clearly for the theatrics, and murmured; “On my knees… naked… right as I let go.”

“Well, at least no innocent medical equipment was involved.”

Caught off guard, Murdock laughed and quipped; “Well, not this time… they’ve gotten more careful about their specula.”

Shaking his head, Face stifled his laugh – he was pretty sure it was a joke – and then quickly did the deed, setting aside the needle to be properly disposed of later before leaning back down to kiss the raised bump left behind. “You are a sick bastard.”

“I know,” he rolled over; drawing Face into is arms with another bombardment of soft kisses. “That’s why you love me.”

“No…” he replied, shaking his head before kissing him even deeper. “I love you because you don’t hate me.” He flushed hot, but it wasn’t Murdock’s lips working their way down to his throat or his hands pushing into the back of his silk boxers – he’d never been able to say it before, that he really did consider it love. Maybe a screwed up kind of love, but still… it was there.

Murdock responded with force, rolling him onto his back with fierce, hot kisses across his throat and down to his collar bone – teeth catching pale skin and drawing up small marks that would fade by morning. “I love you…” he groaned, pushing lower; “I love you so damn much…”

Maybe it was hearing it without the silly voices, without the famous quotes or songs about his toes – just hearing it right from Murdock’s mouth. Maybe it was because every time he looked at a woman in the last few months he couldn’t help but feel a little twinge of guilt for what he was about to do. Either way, when his fingers wound themselves in Murdock’s hair he sighed; “I love you.” No modifiers, no hesitation, and no regret.

Murdock’s mouth enveloped his soft cock, the flesh responding immediately to the much missed sensation of him swallowing and rolling his tongue over the tip. As if rewarding his confession, he flicked the tip of his tongue wildly over his hardness – driving him hard and fast until he couldn’t stand the rough tug at his hair.

“W… wait…” Face panted, skin flushed pink as he fought the sensation, his lover’s mouth still eagerly drawing him in. “Not so fast… I need you…”

Need. The word was enough to get Murdock’s attention and draw his ruddy cheeks up from between Face’s thighs; “You have me.”

“Please?” He begged, pulling at Murdock’s arms to bring him up closer until they tangled together amidst the sheets, pawing and grinding against each other until Face was whining for more. “Fuck me…” He growled through clenched teeth – stroking a hand down his lover’s chest to stroke between his thighs.

“D… don’t…” Murdock sighed, flushing pink when Face’s strong hand closed around him, finding him only partially stiff as he rubbed harder. “I can’t.”

“You can,” Face grinned, kissing him hard enough to bruise his lips; “I know you can… so very good…”

He growled in frustration, pushing Face down against the bed as the bottle was shoved into his hand. “I… I’ll try…” he nodded, drizzling the cool lube down the curve of his ass.

“Yeah…” he murmured as loud as he dare go without waking the others, pulling away just enough to roll onto his hands and knees. Now that had been a long time coming – it had been at least six months, if not longer. And there was nobody he trusted more. “Yes…” he hissed, feeling the familiar fingers rubbing over him and slowly pushing inside him.

It was control, and Murdock knew it. He tried no less, stretching him with two long fingers stroking slow and deep. “You like that?” He murmured, slowly twisting his wrist.

“Just like that…” Face lowered his head to the pillows, biting back a moan as he waited for more – but no more came, just the slow and steady build of pressure as fingertips dug against the tender spot that made him ache. “God… please…”

He couldn’t give Face exactly what he wanted, his body wouldn’t play nice and do what it was told, but he could get him over the edge. With a soft groan, Murdock pushed himself in closer and drew his fingers tightly together to work in a third – stretching him slow and steady as he wrapped his free hand around the hard shaft of his lover’s cock and matched the pace with concentrated precision. It wasn’t much different from flying a chopper, working pitch and yaw until she was part of him.

Face moaned low and loud even buried in the pillow, a shudder rippling across his shoulders and down his back as he crested over the edge of Murdock’s tight fist. Subconsciously, he bucked back against the fingers inside him as he came – riding out the spasms until Murdock’s fingers left him empty and aching. “Fuck…” he panted, lowering himself to the bed, still shaking. “I swear that’s never happened before…”

“I’m good with my hands,” Murdock grinned, laying possessively on top of him as he reached for the towel he’d left on the bedside table just in case. Tender, lovingly, he kissed the sweat along the nape of Face’s neck – letting his tongue dart over the salty skin.

“Good with everything.” Face groaned, rolling over until they were belly to belly as the other man wiped his hands. “I outta repay the favor.”

Murdock licked his lips and nuzzled against Face’s stubble – letting it rasp comfortingly against his face before saying; “It’s like the white rabbit, you know? One pill makes you larger… one makes you small.” He sighed; “Only it aint pills at all.”

“Stop it,” Face smiled, kissing the curve of his ear. It sounded like something he would have said two months ago, nonsensical and whimsical at the same time. “The rabbit’s never felt what my tongue can do...” he ran the tip over the edge of his earlobe, then nipped gently. “But you have, baby…”

He moaned, more aroused than he could ever remember being – and unable to do much of anything about it. “I can’t,” he groaned, closing his eyes as his body relaxed against his lover. “Believe me… I want to so… so bad…”

“Let me try, come on…”

Frustrated, Murdock pushed up and away – sitting at the edge of the bed with his back turned toward Face. “You don’t think I’ve tried? I’ve spent hours… trying. Trying anything and it feels good till it hurts.” He sighed louder, unable to look him in the face. “Good old B-52s… five of Haldol makes you wanna go like a teenager again and two of Ativan to make sure you can’t – add a little Benadryl to make you all loosey goosey and everything’s roses. You know, cept nothing works the same anymore.”

He’d read the side effects in the file, studying it when he couldn’t sleep to try and understand what he was dealing with, but hadn’t really expected it to work out like it was. Still, he understood and wanted to make it as good as he could. “Murdock…” he murmured, sitting up against his body’s wishes; “It’s all right, I shouldn’t have pushed you into it…”

“You didn’t,” he shook his head and turned back, then crawled back up against him to sit beside him. “I guess I just thought it’d be different with you… you know? Maybe it’d be enough.”

It was easy for him to loop his arm over Murdock’s shoulders and draw him in close – kissing the top of his head. “You’re enough,” he murmured; “maybe next time?”

“Yeah…” he replied with a light hint of humor in his voice, “right, maybe.”

***

It didn’t get better. The days were poured into getting the chopper going – fixing her body damage, and then flushing out the engine and replacing parts that would never move again no matter how much love and grease went into it – but they went slow, and though he didn’t mention it Hannibal knew every time Murdock swore at his hands and his bad luck or took an hour to piece together something he should have known in minutes, things weren’t right. But he wasn’t going to push it, not this time. He’d have to come back around on his own.

BA, on the other hand, muttered over a plate of mushroom risotto; “Somethin’ wrong with him, Face, you better put your man back in line – I can’t eat like this.”

“My man?” Face snorted, rather enjoying food that didn’t taste of lingering engine oil or coconut milk. “I think you’re managing to put it away just fine, BA.”

“All the same…” Hannibal cut into the conversation; “I’m worried.”

“See, ain’t just me.”

“I’m worried about putting him in the air,” Hannibal frowned at BA, sitting back in his chair as he glanced at Murdock up to his elbows in washing – by his own choosing. His voice dropped down to a hushed murmur and he said; “He’s been off the Jazz, it’s hard for him – I don’t want to take any chances in an active war zone.”

“I trust him,” Face whispered back curtly; “he’ll be fine.”

“Maybe we should talk to him about the medication.” Hannibal licked his lips, idly rubbing his fingers over his cigar.

“I don’t believe this!” Face sighed, rolling his eyes as he too watched Murdock quietly going about the kitchen business – not even a song hummed or a dance in his steps. “First you want him drugged; now you’re just changing your mind?”

Hannibal’s hand shot across the table, grabbing Face’s wrist tight. “I want a functional team and we can’t be that if he’s in the middle of an episode… or if he’s so fuzzy he doesn’t know the difference between forty knots and fourteen.”

“And the food’s terrible…” BA muttered.

Face shot him a glare that could etch glass and frowned. “Fine. Fine. I’ll talk to him.”

They settled in for a while, but Murdock seemed distracted as he went over the pages of a dog-eared manual for the 500, circling things with pencil before erasing it and muttering; “No, not that…” and starting over again.

There was comfort, but no sexual charge between them when they stripped down for bed – and when they were pressed close the kisses were warm but lacking the fervor that had waned since the first night. But, they were happy and Face was happy with that. “Ready for your shot?” he asked casually, letting his fingers trace a lazy circle over Murdock’s belly from behind.

Murdock was silent a long moment before asking; “They didn’t like dinner, did they?”

The absurdity struck him for a moment, but Face shook his head and chuckled under his breath; “What? No, not… it was delicious.”

“BA didn’t get seconds; he always gets seconds – even when I don’t burn it.”

“He’s uh… worried we’re gonna make him go up in the helicopter next week.”

“Oh.” The silence stretched on for several minutes as Face grappled for a way to open up the subject without sounding like he thought one way or the other about it. Truth told, he agreed with Hannibal – sure the medication worked, it did its job, but Murdock wasn’t himself and it bothered him just as much everyone else. Soon enough, though, he didn’t have to say anything. Murdock said; “I’m not gonna take it tonight.”

“What?” Face furrowed his brow, loosening his grip to let Murdock turn onto his back to look at him. “Are you sure?”

“I miss it,” he nodded slowly, “miss sleepin’ right and thinking about things like I do.” He found Face’s hand and laced their fingers together comfortably, settling it against his chest. “You all right with that?”

He paused, letting it sink in a second before eagerly shaking his head negative; “It’s your decision, remember? I’m here for you.”

“Even when I got the shakes and dry heaves in detox?”

“Sure…”

“Even when I throw up on your nice suit?” he smiled weakly.

Face half-frowned, it was a new suit… necessary for posing as an official to get the paperwork they needed. “Maybe try to miss the suit?”

His smile warmed and Murdock replied; “I’ll try.”

“I know.”

“And then I’ll be like I was before and it’ll be okay, right?”

“Sure it will.” He didn’t know for sure, it wasn’t exactly something he’d been through but it sounded like what Murdock wanted to hear and if he knew anything in life; it was how to tell people what they want to hear.

“What if I’m too crazy?” The question came out meek, but curious.

Again, he was silent. Surely Hannibal had a backup plan, and if he was lucky it didn’t mean another VA trip in their future because there was no doubt he’d have another episode eventually. After a moment, he answered with some confidence; “I’ll take care of you.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah…” he brushed a kiss against Murdock’s temple; “promise.”

***

The day before their flight, it was Face who braved the test run. They had to keep the altitude low and distance short lest they risk getting caught before they even took it out for the long run, but he was confident that the change they’d seen in Murdock was for the better.

Bit by bit, he’d regained his spark – tuning the engine until what was once a collection of rusted parts purred like a helicopter half her age. When he’d sat behind the controls it was like putting on a favorite pair of church socks – the extra holey ones – and he was right at home with his co-pilot gripping the seat each time he skirted a little too close to the tree line for his comfort.

“Whee-o!” He grinned, twisting his hand on the cyclic stick as he settled her into a pattern well enough above the Arizona pines and bearing northeast toward the canyon. “Ooooh, baby how I’ve missed you…”

Nervously, Face pushed back against the seat, eyes wide as he watched out at the clear blue sky. “Just keep her in one piece.”

“Aye, aye…” Murdock replied easily, pushing her a little harder as they neared the target.

Face slowly got used to the familiar sway and shifts of Murdock’s maneuvers while he felt out the helicopter and swung them around past the canyon near Pinetop, heading back for home. “Looks like you’ve still got it.”

“Like ridin’ a unicycle!” He laughed; face ruddy as the excitement built. His grip tightened on the collective, waiting for the perfect moment; “Some things ya never forget!”

He was about to say something smart, but his throat closed when he felt the sick lurch of his stomach as Murdock drove the nose down and then banked a hard turn, sending them sidelong much too fast for comfort. “Damn it, Murdock!” he shouted; “Straighten her out! Now”

Gleeful, Murdock let out a whooping Woody Woodpecker laugh followed with a high-pitched scream as he pushed against the collective and the chopper dropped down toward a clearing – losing altitude fast. “Bringin’ her down!”

“Don’t you dare!”

Murdock pulled the nose back with a loud growl; “Yeah, baby… that’s what Daddy likes!”

As soon they touched down, just as he’d shut down the power, Face tore open his harness and was on him – hands closing perilously close to around his lover’s neck. “You’re fucking crazy!” he yelled, frightened and angry – blood pulsing in his ears as the vertigo threatened to overtake him.

Still grinning, Murdock wrapped his arms around Face’s waist and pulled him into his lap; “Innit great?”

“No! It isn’t!” Face shouted even louder, “It’s terrifying!”

Slowly, Murdock’s grin faded to a crooked smirk and he murmured from under his raised visor; “You are so pretty when you’re mad.”

Face lips twisted into a frown and he shook his head; “You could have killed us both!”

“Then again…” Murdock continued undaunted, pulling him even closer into the pilot’s seat; “you’re always pretty…”

The fight just wasn’t in him. Face knew, no matter what, Murdock was back… his Murdock – the one that could make defying death even a little… well, fun. Still, he sighed; “I swear…” Murdock cut him off with a rough kiss, sliding both hands up his back and into his hair, getting a good grip on the shaggy coif. When he pulled away, Face sighed; “You are… so… impulsive and… insane… and…”

“And…” Murdock’s lips curled again, showing teeth against sun-pinked skin.

“And…” Face echoed, the corner of his mouth twitching as the realization hit him – digging hard against the front of his slacks. “That is not the stick…”

“Nope, that’s the other hard thing between my legs.”

“You’re really…” he rocked experimentally, the thrill tingling up his back as it dug right back against him again.

“Really… really.”

Face leaned in and kissed him, letting the moment slide – they were alive, stunt aside, and things were happening. Things they were both ready for. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Like the mile high club, only on the ground.”

“Usually pilots don’t get to join that club…” Face smiled, kissing him again as his fingers released the buckle latches holding Murdock in his seat. “But I think we could make an exception.”

“If the chopper’s rockin’…” he started, finishing with a low groan against Face’s mouth when the hands at his chest traced down to his jeans.

“I’m not having sex in the helicopter…” Face shook his head, letting a small laugh slip.

“Aww… come on… just this once?” Murdock tugged at Face’s collar, rocking his hips just for the sensation.

A low growl rose in his throat as he considered their rather limited options… it was technically possible. He’d have to be careful, but in theory they could pull it off. “Don’t move,” he murmured, thumbing open Murdock’s jeans as he planted one foot beside the collective and his knee on the seat.

“Yessir…” Murdock said, letting Face work his jeans as far down his hips as he could manage in the tight space.

“This was a lot easier in a car.” He joked, wincing when the end of the stick dug against his ass.

Face leaned forward again and drew down the front of Murdock’s briefs to expose his hardness. “Think we’re over the white rabbit.”

“Doin’ a whole lot of talking and not a lot of celebrating…” Murdock muttered, following it with a soft moan when Face’s hand closed around the solid shaft – stroking base to tip slowly. “Now that’s jus’ mean…”

“Gonna have to improvise…” Face said, leaning as close as he could. “Little help with my zipper?”

The pilot’s hands were quick on the small metal tab, “Now we’re talkin’…”

The laugh came easy, but was squashed with a passionate kiss. Face moved slow and gently, dragging the front of his soft cotton boxers against his thumb and Murdock’s cock as he stroked. Eager hands pawed at the waistband of his underwear until he felt skin against skin and blunt nails digging into his ass.

“More…” Murdock gasped – letting out a soft giggle when Face’s lips dragged across his cheek.

Face murmured; “Just an appetizer… tonight you’re mine.”

“Yours…” he responded reflexively, his arousal beading at the tip to wipe against the edge Face’s crisp white shirt.

He stretched his grip further, wrapping his thumb around his own shaft to drive them against each other with each skillful stroke. It was move he hadn’t made since boot camp but in the heat of the moment it sure as hell did the trick. “Pinning you down on the bed… riding your cock…”

“Ride ‘em cowboy…” he tittered.

Face rocked his hips as hard as he dared, the helicopter feeling impossibly light underneath them as it seemed to sway with each buck of his hips. “And just when you think you can’t take any more I’m gonna roll you over…”

“Oh lordy…” Murdock gasped, his breathing coming in increasingly ragged gulps.

“Take my time… nice and slow…”

“Please… pleaseplease…” he begged, a low moan slipping into a whimpering howl.

His hand squeezed tighter, just enough wetness spreading between them to feel the skin pulling with each pleasant stroke. “Going faster and faster until the bed starts to shake…”

Murdock’s gasps lifted to a high-pitched giggle, music to Face’s ears as the pilot began to shudder underneath him. “Sh-sh-sh-sh-shakin…”

The crosstube creaked under them, keeping him at a rough pace – but it was enough. Murdock was close, between the hitching breaths and kneading hands Face knew it wouldn’t take much more. “You want it? As soon as the lights go out?”

“Uh-huh…” he breathed, tilting his head back enough to feel the tug of his helmet strap. “Now…” he groaned; “I want it now.”

“Mmm, patience…” Face groaned, nipping his cheek before adding in a soft whisper; “I love you.”

Murdock’s arms tightened, pulling his lover too close to continue grinding against him as he tipped over the edge. A shuddering howl shot through the cockpit, and Murdock fought against Face’s weight holding him into the seat. “Oh god… oh god…” he howled again, squeezing tight.

“Oooh… careful there…” Face laughed, kissing the curve of his jaw. “Breathing is good.”

“Right… right…” he panted, relaxing against the familiar shape of the seat as Face shifted his weight back onto his foot and then teetered into the copilot’s. “That…” he giggled, catching his breath; “was amazing…”

“It was.” Face turned his head to watch as he pulled his shorts and pressed pants over his hardness – letting them hang open until he could cool down. “You’re amazing.”

“You did all the work… that shirt’s gonna need washed.”

Laughing, letting go of the calm mask for just a moment, Face shrugged and replied; “It was worth it.”

“You should sit back… let me have the keys…” Murdock licked his lips, eyes darting down to Face’s obvious arousal.

He shook his head; “No way. Saving it for later.”

Murdock giggled again; quickly pulling on his jeans as he reached to fire up the engine. “Hell, let’s get this bird in the air! Bet we make it back in time for my stories…”

It was going to be all right. In the morning they’d be flying into a warzone to raid a prisoner of war camp… but until then, the night was theirs.

***

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a work of fictional parody in no way intended to infringe upon the rights of any individual or corporate entity. Any and all characters or celebrity personae belong to their rightful owners. Absolutely no money has or will be gained from this work. Please do not publicly link, repost or redistribute without letting me know first.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Promises](https://archiveofourown.org/works/701553) by [GypsyJr (HippieGeekGirl)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HippieGeekGirl/pseuds/GypsyJr)




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